


But If You Loved Me, Why'd You Leave Me?

by emojidun



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, But mostly angst, Character Death, Crying, Fluff, Hospitals, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Smut, Mentions of Underage Sex, Weddings, a lot of crying, seriously dont read this if youre a doctor youll wanna hit me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emojidun/pseuds/emojidun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Josh's heart just fucking stops, he's fifteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But If You Loved Me, Why'd You Leave Me?

**Author's Note:**

> so this is for the tumblr anon that clearly doesnt love themselves because they requested it. i hope its exactly as awful as you were expecting!!

The first time Josh's heart just fucking stops, he's fifteen. 

It's almost two in the morning and he's sitting, cross legged, on Tyler's ugly comforter, knees pressed to Tyler's and his hands in his lap. He has a cigarette tucked behind one of his ears and a wide, ridiculous smile plastered across his face, that he leans forward to press against Tyler's lips as he kisses him. 

Tyler can still feel him smiling, and he can't keep himself from cracking a grin of his own, pressing closer to him for half a moment before he pulls away again. "Hey," he says, trying — and probably failing — to sound stern. "Stop distracting me."

He has a bottle of nail polish in one hand, and Josh's hand in the other, after a solid day and a half of whining and trying to convince Josh to let him paint his nails. He had caved eventually, 'cause he can never say no to Tyler — and 'cause Tyler gives exceptional head, but whatever, same difference — but painting nails is, apparently, an art form that's easier to master when he's actually painting and not just smiling stupidly against Josh's lips. 

Josh, the bastard, doesn't seem particularly bothered as he leans forward to kiss him again. He's still smiling against his lips, gripping Tyler's thigh with the hand he's not holding, and it's making it increasingly difficult not to want to kiss him. They had been friends since before Tyler could even remember, but their relationship is still fairly new, and Tyler is still so disgustingly gone for him that he pretty much just wants to kiss him, like, all the time. He'd been kind of in love with Josh since the seventh grade, when he'd suddenly grown a foot and a half and started dyeing his hair, and now that Tyler can actually kiss him, it's hard enough to stop without Josh's hand on his thigh. 

It's reluctantly that he pulls away again, narrowing his eyes. Kissing Josh is probably his second favourite thing to do — right after having sex with him — but he isn't about to give up what could very well be his only opportunity to paint his nails. "Stop," he insists, and Josh lifts one of his shoulders, smiling in a way he probably thinks looks innocent. It doesn't. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, and Tyler nudges him with his knee, glancing back down at his hand. He's painting his nails purple, to match his newly dyed hair, that he'd actually made Tyler help him dye a day or two before. He'd accidentally managed to dye the bathtub, too, which his mom had been pretty pissed about, but all in all, Josh looks good, so he figures it had worked out well in the end. 

He turns Josh's hand carefully, painting the last of his nails a bright, vibrant purple, before he places his hand back down on his knee and takes the other. 

"God," Josh says, as he starts painting his other hand. "You're so pretty." 

"Shut up," Tyler replies, trying his very best not to smile. Josh grins, squeezing his knee. 

"The prettiest," he says. 

Tyler cracks a smile, trying to ignore him, but he can feel Josh's hand inching further up his thigh, and the smile in his voice when he says, "I love you." 

Tyler can feel his heart skip a beat in his chest, the way it always does when Josh tells him that he loves him, and he's maybe a little less careful as he smears nail polish over the last of his nails before he leans up to kiss him again. 

Josh makes a pleased sound against his lips, as Tyler cradles the back of his head with one hand, and Tyler can't keep himself from cracking another smile. "You're an asshole," he murmurs into his mouth. 

Josh only hums. "You love me." 

Tyler laughs, pulling away just enough to cap the bottle of polish before he climbs into Josh's lap and seals their lips together again. Josh smiles against his lips, and Tyler figures that his smile must literally be fucking contagious, because he can't keep himself from laughing again and they're smiling into each other's mouths more than they're actually kissing. 

As he shifts closer, Tyler feels one of Josh's hands on his back, and he worries, fleetingly, about his wet nails against the fabric of his shirt. He makes a sort of displeased noise, but just as he starts to pull away to complain, he feels Josh's lips still as he suddenly tenses beneath him. 

Tyler pulls away quickly, feeling Josh's fingertips pressing into his back. "J?" He asks. Josh's eyes are rolling, like he can't quite focus on anything, and Tyler suddenly feels panic, like a lead weight, settling into the pit of his stomach. "J?" He repeats, and Josh makes a soft, gasping sort of noise, before his fingers are gone as he's falling, limp, against the mattress. 

"Fuck," Tyler breathes, climbing off of him quickly. He crawls up the mattress next to him, shaking his shoulder, harsh and unsteady. "Josh?" 

He doesn't stir, and Tyler, unsure of what else to do, holds two of his fingers to Josh's throat to make sure that he is, in fact, still alive. He does it mostly to reassure himself that Josh is fine, but instead, he feels his heart drop somewhere near his knees as Josh's pulse slows dramatically beneath his fingertips. A moment passes before it stops all together.

Tyler screams. 

He doesn't know what else to do. He's not a doctor, but he's pretty sure hearts are supposed to fucking beat, and he can feel that Josh's is still and silent beneath his fingertips. His chest isn't moving, and Tyler can't bring himself to do anything but just fucking scream. 

He screams so loudly it actually hurts, and he doesn't think about anybody else in the house until his mom is rushing into the room, looking furious. They'd woken her up a few times in the past, always with a less than savoury excuse, and it's not altogether very surprising that she looks ready to kill the both of them. Josh is already dead, is the thing, and Tyler can't even force his lips to form anything more coherent as he screams again. 

His mom's expression crumbles, first into confusion, and then into worry as she rushes to his bedside. 

"What happened?" She asks, but Tyler can't speak. He doubles over Josh's still chest, screaming into his shirt as his mother tentatively reaches out to take Josh's pulse. He can hear her gasp, but before she can really react, Tyler's dad's padding into the room, grumbling. His mom must look as panicked as Tyler feels, because he doesn't even bother getting mad, and instead rushes over to the group of them. He says something to Tyler's mom, who says something in return, but he can't hear anything over his own screaming. He only moves when he suddenly feels his mom's hands on his arms, prying him from Josh's chest as his father takes his place, trying to force his heart back into action. 

Josh doesn't stir, and Tyler's voice finally catches in his throat as his legs give out. He crumples to the floor, shaking silently as his listens to his mom on the phone, calling an ambulance, and his dad occasionally cursing and calling Josh's name as he tries to get his heart beating again. 

Tyler's hands are shaking against the carpet and he isn't sure what to think. Beneath the blinding panic, he just can't wrap his head around what the fuck's even happening. Josh had been fine, warm and solid and happy beneath Tyler, and now he's cold and his heart isn't beating and Tyler isn't sure if he's ever gonna get to see him smile again. He feels his mother's hands on his back, but he can't bring himself to move from the carpet, 'cause he's never gonna hear Josh tell him that he loves him again and he isn't even entirely sure why. 

He's never gonna hear him laugh, or moan, or snore softly when he invites himself over to Tyler's house just to fall asleep on his living room couch. He's never gonna hold Tyler again, and Tyler's shaking uncontrollably as he slowly pulls himself off the floor to take Josh's cold hand in his own. 

"Please," he whispers softly, and he isn't sure who he's talking to, but he isn't ready to never kiss Josh again so he just holds tighter to his fingers and prays that somebody's listening. "Please," he whispers. "Please."

There's a hurried knock from somewhere downstairs, and his mom rushes from the room again, returning a half a moment later with a pair of EMTs and a gurney in tow. They're speaking, but Tyler isn't listening, until his mom is kissing his hair and trying to pry him off of Josh's body again. He struggles, but then one of the EMTs is tearing open Josh's shirt and rubbing a pair of defibrillator paddles together. 

"Charging," he calls, and then holds them to Josh's chest, sending a jolt of electricity through him. His entire body convulses with it, and Tyler shrinks back against his mom like he hasn't since he was much younger and afraid of almost everything. The paramedic calls out again, and Tyler wants to look away, but there's a small part of him, scared and juvenile, that feels like if he does, he'll have given up, and Josh'll die while his eyes are closed. 

Instead, he watches as Josh's body jolts again, rising almost completely off the bed. The paramedic holds his fingers to Josh's throat, holding them there for a long moment before he hands the paddles back to the other. "We've got a pulse," he says, and Tyler nearly screams again. He's never been so fucking relieved in his life. 

The paramedics lift Josh onto the gurney they had propped up, and Tyler quickly scrambles away from his mother and over the bed to take his hand again. He gets a look from one of the EMTs, but nobody tries to stop him, so he keeps a tight grip on Josh's hand as he follows them outside and into the ambulance. His mother is calling after him, something to the extent of _we'll meet you at the hospital_ , but he can still barely hear anything over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. 

He holds tighter to Josh's fingers, still very cold, and tries his best to will him to be okay. His heart's beating, but he's not waking up, and one of the paramedics is strapping an oxygen mask over his face. The rise and fall of his chest is very shallow, and Tyler closes his eyes, turning his face away to kiss Josh's knuckles. 

"Please be okay," he whispers into his skin. Josh doesn't stir. 

He doesn't stir the rest of the way to the hospital, either, or when he's whisked away from Tyler as soon as they arrive, and Tyler spends the next few hours curled up in a waiting room, arms around his knees, hoping above all hope that he's okay. His parents show up at some point, sitting on either side of him, but he can't bring himself to even lift his head to greet them. 

Josh is his best friend, and the love of his fucking life, and Tyler doesn't know what he'd do without him. He doesn't know who he'd be without him. He doesn't think he'd be able to live without him. 

His chest hurts, and he doesn't feel like he's able to catch his breath until a young woman in blue scrubs walks out to meet them. With the very last of his energy, Tyler finally lifts his head, and he immediately wants to panic again until the nurse cracks a reassuring smile. "He's stable," she says, smiling softly. "You can see him now, if you'd like."

"Yes," Tyler breathes, immediately heaving himself to his feet. The nurse smiles again, leading him down a random hall and around a corner into Josh's room. He looks so small, laying in a sterile hospital bed, with a cannula in his nose and an oximeter on his finger. Tyler sinks slowly into one of the chairs next to his bed, kissing at his knuckles again as he takes Josh's hand tightly in both of his own. His nail polish is smudged. 

Tyler thumbs slowly across his skin, and for a long time, he barely moves, occasionally pressing kisses to Josh's fingertips but otherwise barely breathing. He has no idea how much time passes, but the sun's filtering in through the curtains and Tyler's nearly starting to fall asleep when he feels Josh's fingers twitch the smallest bit beneath his own. 

It's barely there, but Tyler sits up immediately, holding tighter to his hand. "J?" He breathes. He's still again, for a long moment, and Tyler nearly thinks that he had imagined it before Josh squeezes his fingers again.

Tyler can't bite back the choked sound of relief he makes, holding to Josh's hand like a lifeline. Josh squeezes his fingers again, making a vague, soft sort of sound as he slowly turns his face towards Tyler. 

"J," Tyler breathes, leaning closer. "Shit. Hi." 

Josh slowly blinks his eyes open, looking at Tyler for a long moment before he lifts the corner of his mouth. "God," he murmurs finally. "You're so pretty." 

Tyler chokes out a laugh, ducking his head. "Shut the fuck up," he murmurs, and Josh squeezes his fingers again, smiling lazily when Tyler looks up at him again. 

Tyler squeezes his hand again, and he wets his lips, glancing once around the room before he lifts his free hand to prod curiously at the cannula. "What happened?" 

"I don't know," Tyler admits, picking at Josh's chipped nail polish. "I forgot to ask." Josh raises his eyebrows, and Tyler shrugs defensively. "I was scared! You scared me, you fucking bastard," he says, and his voice cracks the smallest bit towards the end. Josh smiles again, lifting Tyler's hand to his lips. 

"M'not going anywhere," he promises, kissing the back of his hand. "'Could never leave you." 

"Shut up," Tyler murmurs again, but he's smiling as he leans up to kiss Josh's lips. Josh smiles, too, and Tyler can't help but breathe out a relieved sort of laugh, leaning his head on Josh's shoulder as he plays with his fingers. "I love you," he murmurs. 

Josh kisses his hair, and Tyler can feel him smiling. "I love you," he murmurs. "Now get the fuck up here, what the fuck are you doing?" 

 

 

The next time Josh's heart stops, he's eighteen. 

The last time, the doctors had said he'd gone into cardiac arrest. They'd told him not to worry — just to take care of himself — but Tyler had ignored them and spent a lot of his time worrying about him after he'd gotten out of the hospital. Every time he'd so much as cough, Tyler's heart would start to sink towards his feet, but after a long while had passed without incident, he'd slowly started to relax again. 

He'll still feel his stomach turn whenever Josh gets sick, but Josh is okay, so he's okay. 

They'd both made it this far, anyway. They'd somehow managed to ride out the remainder of their high school careers, and they're graduating in, what? Two days? Three? 

Tyler had wanted to celebrate by staying home — maybe napping, maybe having sex on the living room furniture while his parents weren't home — but Josh had to go in to school to turn in some paper he'd gotten an extension on, and skipping out just wasn't the same without him. At any rate, they had History together fourth period, and Tyler was much too good of a person to let Josh suffer through that class alone. 

Their teacher, a horrible woman in her early forties with prematurely grey hair, hates the both of them, and she shoots them a scowl from her desk as they're pretending to be reading from their textbooks. Tyler's trying to muffle his laughter with his hand, and Josh is doing a decent job of staying quiet, but his shoulders are shaking uncontrollably as he ducks his head closer to his desk. 

Tyler is about to write him another note — telling him to _stop fucking distracting me, I'm trying to read, you fucking dick_ — when Josh's shoulders suddenly still and he crumples forward against his desk. His head makes a loud sort of sound against the wood, and the teacher quickly shoots a glare in their direction, but Tyler ignores her as a familiar feeling of dread starts to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach. 

His breath catches, and he reaches out slowly, shaking Josh's shoulder with one hand. He's limp. 

"No," Tyler says, slightly louder than he had intended. The girl in front of him glances at them curiously over her shoulder. "No, J, c'mon." 

"Mr. Joseph," the teacher calls sharply, but Tyler ignores her as his stomach turns and he furiously shakes Josh's shoulder again. "Mr. Joseph," she repeats, but Tyler's blood's starting to rush in his ears and he can barely hear her. 

"Call an ambulance," he calls, and he doesn't really say it to anybody in particular, but a few of the kids around him are already watching him curiously and he figures at least one of them has to be listening. "Somebody call an ambulance!" He shakes Josh's shoulder again. He doesn't move. "Fuck, J," he snaps. "Don't do this. Wake up." 

"Mr. Joseph," the teacher calls again, but she sounds fractionally less pissed and almost like she's concerned. He can hear her the bottom of her chair squealing against the floor as she pushes back from her desk, and he can feel his heart in his throat as he slowly holds two of his fingers to Josh's neck. 

Nothing. 

"He doesn't have a pulse," Tyler cries, and everybody in the room is looking at him now. "Somebody call a fucking ambulance!" 

"Go get the nurse," the teacher tells the girl in front of Tyler, who quickly scrambles out of her seat as Tyler shoves at Josh's shoulder again. 

"Don't fucking do this," he cries. 

"Help me get him onto his back," the teacher instructs, but Tyler's hands are shaking so badly that the kid behind him has to walk around his desk and help lift Josh from his chair and onto the cold ground. He just kind of crumples, like he's a fucking rag doll, and Tyler's chest hurts as he kneels next to him and the teacher folds her hands over Josh's chest to try and get his heart beating. 

Tyler's crying, and Josh's heart still isn't beating when the nurse rushes into the room with a portable defibrillator and the appropriately shaken girl in tow. She kneels down next to the teacher, and doesn't waste any time before she tears Josh's shirt open, rubbing the charged paddles together once before she presses them against his chest. 

He jolts, and Tyler instinctively grips Josh's wrist as the nurse holds her fingers to his throat. The look on her face isn't a pleasant one, and she turns up the electricity before she presses the paddles back to his chest. 

Tyler is distantly aware that the rest of the class is crowded around them now, but he can't bring himself to look away from where Josh is arching off the floor with the force of the current. Tyler's crying, and somebody behind him is cursing, but he can barely hear anything over the shrill sound the defibrillator makes as she shocks Josh again, then again. 

A fifth time, then a sixth, and Tyler is really, truly starting to panic when she holds her hand back to Josh's throat and finally makes a relieved sort of sound. "He has a pulse," she says, and Tyler chokes out a sob, gripping Josh's wrist more tightly until the paramedics rush into the classroom and load Josh onto a gurney in a way that feels much too familiar. 

Tyler ends up waiting in the same waiting room, curled up against his mother's side as Josh's mom takes the seat on the other side of him. The wait is longer this time around, but a nurse comes out to tell them not to worry. This time, on top of making sure he's stable, they have to run a couple of tests. A young kid going into cardiac arrest? Not a problem. A young kid going into cardiac for the second time in three years? Apparently something to worry about. 

Tyler's nearly chewed a hole in his lower lip when the nurse walks back out to greet them, hands folded behind her back. 

She assures them he's okay, but there's this sort of discomfort in her smile that spreads across the rest of her face when Tyler blurts, "what the fuck happened?" 

He has what she calls hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It's manageable, she assures them quickly, but it's a heart defect that's gonna put him at risk for cardiac arrest for the rest of his life. He'll have to be very careful, she says. He probably shouldn't drive. 

Josh's mom starts to cry, and Tyler's mom wraps a comforting arm around her as Tyler finally rises to his feet and follows the nurse slowly to Josh's room. He sits next to his bed, all too familiar, and takes his hand tightly in his own. 

It isn't long before Josh starts to stir again, holding tighter to Tyler's fingers as he slowly blinks his eyes open at the ceiling. He winces at the harsh lights, and closes his eyes again as he turns his face towards Tyler. 

"Hi," he mumbles. Tyler cracks a smile, faint and watery. 

"Hi," he says softly. 

"What happened?" Josh asks slowly, screwing his face up as he tries to open his eyes again. 

Tyler looks down towards their hands. "Cardiac arrest," he says, and Josh grunts softly. "I can't remember what the nurse called it. Something myopathy. But," he says softly, playing with Josh's fingers as he takes a deep breath. "But it means this could happen again. You're supposed to come back every few weeks for checkups. You're not supposed to drive anymore." 

"What?" Josh protests. Tyler looks up at him again as he groans. "I love driving." Tyler smiles again, looking back down as Josh grins lazily and squeezes his fingers. "M'gonna be fine, baby," he says. "Don't worry."

"Your heart's fucked," he reminds him, and Josh scoffs.

"It's trying its best," he says. "Don't be rude." 

Tyler chokes out a laugh, but he still can't bring himself to look up until Josh slowly lifts his hand to his chin, tilting his face upwards. His hair looks really blue against the starchy white of his pillows. "I'm not going anywhere," he says softly. "You know I'd never leave you." Tyler knows for a fact he doesn't look convinced, 'cause he isn't convinced, and Josh smiles again as he holds his pinky out. "I promise." 

Tyler presses his lips together, trying not to smile again as he slowly hooks his pinky with Josh's. "You better," he grumbles. 

Josh grins. 

 

 

When Josh's heart stops the next time, he's twenty four. 

His hair is red, he has Tyler's name tattooed on his thigh, and they've been engaged for almost seven months. 

He'd spent the night in the hospital the day before, going through his usual round of blood work and injections and whatever else they did to him. His doctor had said that he looked good — better, even, than anybody had expected. Tyler's chest had felt lighter than it had in a long time. 

He had wanted to celebrate Josh's health, but Josh was always so tired after getting out of the hospital that he had decided an entire day spent in bed would be better for him. He wakes up some time before Josh, and climbs from the bed, careful not to wake him as he slips from the room and into the kitchen. He can't actually cook, but he knows how to work the coffee maker, and he leans back against the counter after switching it on. It fills slowly, and Tyler hums to himself as he straightens up again, pouring it into a mug — black, because Josh is, apparently, a very old man at heart. 

He unplugs the coffee maker, cradles the mug in one hand, and pads back into the bedroom as quietly as he can manage. He places the mug on the nightstand before he climbs back into bed next to him, smiling against his shirt as he presses a kiss to Josh's shoulder. "J," he murmurs. "Wake up." 

Josh doesn't stir, and Tyler smiles softly, kissing his shoulder again. "Hey," he says, fractionally loudly. "J." Josh is as still as ever, and Tyler rolls his eyes fondly, shaking his shoulder once. "Josh," he says. "Up time. Time to get up." 

He still doesn't move, and Tyler's face falls the smallest bit as he shakes his shoulder again. "J?" He repeats, and when Josh still doesn't move, he leans closer, ear to Josh's chest. 

There's nothing. 

Not the sound of his heart beating, or his blood rushing, or his lungs expanding. Nothing. 

He calls an ambulance, and goes through the motions like it's muscle memory. He pushes at Josh's chest, holds his hand as he's defibrillated, holds his breath as it takes seven, eight tries to get his heart beating again. It stops once again in the ambulance, and Tyler's still crying as he curls up in the waiting room, arms around his knees. 

He feels sort of betrayed, almost. The doctor had told him that Josh was doing fine, and not even an entire day had passed before he wasn't. What if they had been out? What if Tyler hadn't been home? 

Then his heart skips a beat in his chest, and he starts to feel so guilty he almost can't catch his breath. How long had Josh been lying there, _dying_ , as Tyler had been standing in the kitchen staring into space? What if he could have done something? What if Josh had woken up and tried to reach for him, and Tyler wasn't there as his fucking heart gave out on him? What if he was scared?

Fuck, what if he was scared? 

Tyler's crying into his knees now, so loudly he's probably scaring the people around him. He can't help it. Josh is his entire fucking life — had been since they were, what? Eight years old? — and he doesn't think he can live in a world without him. He doesn't know what the fuck he'd do if he lost him.

He doesn't have to find out, thank fucking God. 

A nurse comes out to meet him soon after, a small, reassuring smile on her face. She's the same nurse that works with Josh when he has to come in, and Tyler's the smallest bit comforted by her presence. "He's okay," she says softly, and honestly, Tyler thinks he might love her. 

He starts to stand — maybe to sprint to Josh's room, maybe to hug her, he doesn't know — but she stops him by sitting slowly next to him. "He's okay," she repeats, but in a way that makes worry start to spread cold and unwelcome through Tyler's chest again. "But there were some complications." 

Tyler's face must fucking fall, because she continues quickly, "we managed to get his heart beating again, but the blood flow was cut off for too long. His lungs were compromised. He'll be fine, but he's going to need an oxygen tank from now on, to aid him with his breathing." 

Tyler makes a choked, whimpering sort of sound, and the nurse reminds him again that Josh'll be okay. She helps him to his feet, leads him down the long hall to his room, and Tyler sits next to his bed and holds his hand until he wakes up again. Josh asks what happened, Tyler tells him that his lungs have given out and he won't be able to breathe on his own anymore. 

It's like clockwork. 

 

 

They get married in August. 

Josh has a cannula in his nose, and an oxygen tank standing next to him at the altar, but he's grinning so widely it looks like it may split his face in half. 

His recites his vows in a clear, confident voice, and when he kisses Tyler, he kisses him like he has all the time — and air — in the world. He's grinning again as he pulls away. 

"I love you, Mr. Joseph-Dun," he murmurs, and Tyler can't keep himself from laughing as he leans up to kiss him again. 

The guests cheer. Somebody whistles. Tyler doesn't think he's ever been happier in his entire fucking life. 

 

 

They've been married for exactly two months when Tyler comes home to find Josh on the couch, leaning towards the sheet of paper he has held in one hand. 

He'd brought it home from the hospital with him that morning, and had refused to tell Tyler what it was. Tyler could recognize that it was probably none of his business — something dumb from his doctor, surely — but his curiosity gets the better of him as he watches Josh look it over. He waits a moment before he holds his breath, walking up behind him as quietly as he can before he reaches out to snatch the paper from Josh's hand. 

Josh reaches for it quickly, but Tyler ducks out of the way, ignoring Josh and the distressed sort of sound he makes. 

"Ty," he protests, reaching for him again, but Tyler only hums and glances down at the pale sheet of paper with the words Do Not Resuscitate printed in bold letters across the top. 

Josh's signature, small and sloppy, is printed across the bottom. 

"Ty," Josh repeats, more softly, but suddenly Tyler's ears are ringing and he can barely hear him. 

"What the fuck is this?" 

Josh doesn't say anything, and Tyler looks up at him quickly, brandishing the sheet of paper in his direction. "What the fuck is this?" He repeats. 

Josh looks down, picking at his nails in the way he always does when he gets anxious. "It's a DNR," he mutters, and Tyler snorts. 

"Yes," he agrees. "Yes, I know that, Josh, because I do, in fact, know how to read. Do you wanna tell me why I'm holding a DNR with your signature on it?" 

Josh doesn't speak, and he still doesn't look at him, and Tyler kinda wants to kick something. He walks around the couch to stand in front of Josh, instead. "Why the fuck am I holding a DNR with your signature on it?" He snaps. 

Josh only picks at his nails again, and Tyler reaches out to swat at his fingers with his free hand. "Why the fuck am I holding a DNR with your signature on it?" 

Josh takes a deep, shuddering breath, and lifts his shoulders. He still doesn't speak for a long moment, and Tyler's about ready to scream when he finally murmurs, so low he barely hears it, "I'm so tired, Ty." 

That pulls Tyler up short for a moment. "What?" 

"I'm just," Josh says softly, rubbing his face. He still won't look at Tyler. "I'm so tired." 

Tyler blinks at him. "So you wanna fucking die?" 

"No," Josh murmurs into his hands, shaking his head slowly. "No," he murmurs again. "I'm sick, Ty. You know that. My heart's fucked and it isn't gonna get any better." 

Tyler opens his mouth, fully prepared to tell Josh to just _shut the fuck up_ , when Josh shakes his head slowly and his words die somewhere in his throat. "I'm getting worse," he says softly. "It's getting worse. If my heart stops again, my doctor doesn't think my brain'll be able to handle it." 

Tyler blinks at him again. The ringing in his ears is getting louder. "What?" 

Josh exhales slowly, adjusting his cannula with one hand before he finally looks up at Tyler. "There's a good chance I'll be brain dead," he says. 

Tyler almost feels brain dead as he stares down at him, trying to make sense of what he's telling him. 

"But," he says softly, shaking his head again. "No. You promised," he says, and he tries his very hardest to sound stern, but his voice breaks as he looks down at him. 

Josh sighs softly, reaching up to him to pull Tyler down into his lap. Tyler's shaking, despite himself, and Josh kisses his hair, pulling him even more tightly against his chest. "I'll be okay," he murmurs. "I'll keep my heart from stopping again, okay? I just don't wanna be fucking brain dead, Ty. I don't wanna do that to you." 

Tyler presses closer against him, face against Josh's shirt. "I need you," he breathes helplessly, and Josh nods against the top of his head. 

"I'm right here." 

 

 

Tyler's parents comes to visit later in the week. His mom asks about grandchildren. Josh smiles, says something about _hopefully someday_. Tyler knows better. 

 

 

The very last time Josh's heart stops beating, he's twenty seven. 

He's laying in bed next to Tyler, and Tyler had known it was coming since the moment he had opened his eyes. 

It wasn't like before. The doctor had been right when he'd said Josh had been deteriorating. His skin was a dull, lifeless shade of grey, and his lips had gone an ashen sort of blue. He'd spent the morning coughing blood onto his pillow, the sheets, the ugly, stained comforter, too weak to even lift his head. It wasn't long before he couldn't even open his eyes. 

Tyler had called in to work, and spent the day in bed with Josh, arms around his waist and his head against his chest. Josh had been too sick to speak, so Tyler had filled the silence for him, murmuring into his shirt about how much he loved him, how much he meant to him. 

It's around three in the afternoon when he feels Josh's heartbeat start to slow beneath his ear. He leans up to kiss his lips, murmuring again that he loves him more than anything in this fucking world and the next. 

It's around three fifteen in the afternoon when Josh's heart finally stops all together. 

 

 

Tyler doesn't leave the bed for weeks afterward. 

He can't even catch his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://fratboydun.tumblr.com)!! im always accepting prompts/requests/sad headcanons so feel free to hmu!!


End file.
